


The Molting Season

by Cherry_Sofa_729



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Bird Logic | Logan Sanders, Bird molting, Bird/Human Hybrids, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Octopus Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Patton is there but not really, Sickfic, Weird Biology, Wing Grooming, Wingfic, molting, very little angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28288020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherry_Sofa_729/pseuds/Cherry_Sofa_729
Summary: A gift for the wonderful Sliver.Logan’s molt is starting and he can’t do it alone, despite how much he wants to. So, he politely asks Remus to help him, and gets so much more than his wings fixed
Relationships: Dark Creativity | Remus Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Comments: 10
Kudos: 107





	1. Day one: Discomfort

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy!

Remus’ spoon dug into the bottom of the ice cream. A telenovela blared on his rickety TV, his eyes fixed on it with intense concentration. 

Chocolate ice cream dripped off his spoon and landed on his bedspread as he listened intently to the TV, complete unaware of the mess he was making. 

The tension in the show broke, and Remus jammed the spoon into his mouth, as though to stop a exclamation of annoyance. 

“You dirty bitch!” He spat, scraping the sides for more ice cream. “He doesn’t deserve you!”

A couple sharp knocks on his door. “What?!” He called, upset that he might have to pause the epic adventures of Miguel and Rosa. 

“Can I speak with you for a moment? Please?” 

It’s the nerd? He wasn’t really prepared for visitors, there in his boxers and oversized green tee shirt, capsicum face mask on and hair pinned back with a plush headband. 

The capsicum made his face burn a little but it made his skin smooth, so.

“What do you want?!” He asked, quite upset with all of this. He wanted to watch telenovelas. 

“I just… I need your help. Please.”

“Fineeee…” He whined, setting down the ice cream tub and stood up with a grunt. 

He displaced several bags of Doritos as he walked to his door, opening it to see-

Logan. He knew it was Logan. That wasn’t the weird part. The weird part was the  wings. 

The two great, hulking, wings. Brown and speckled, they were attached to his back right near his shoulder blades and curled around him in a sort of protective gesture. 

Remus immediately knew he was the first person to see these wings. 

He stood, aghast, taking in the sight of them. 

“I know it’s unusual, and I’m sorry I didn’t explain, but I think I’m moulting, and I can’t- I can’t reach…” 

He took a deep breath, and Remus noticed he was trembling. 

“Something feels very uncomfortable and I can’t reach whatever is irritating it.” He said quickly, eyes fixed on the floor. 

The wings fluffed up, ruffling the feathers in a motion Remus was sure he had done many times before, attempting to settle something out of place. 

“Oh!” Remus exclaimed. His brain had gone to mush except for thoughts of _wings wings wings why does he have wings?_ “Um, how long have you…” he motioned to the overall form of Logan. 

“A while now.” He said quickly. “I just… I don’t know how the others would react.”

That made sense. A little bit. But it was more confusing than it made sense. 

“Let me get this gay,” Remus said, holding out his hands to put some distance between himself and the bird man. “You decide to reveal your big secret to the person who’s famous for blurting things out and not keeping secrets?” He tried to reason Logan’s decision here. He was  _Remus._ He wasn’t gonna be able to keep something this big under wraps. 

“W-well, the others might… mock me. Or think I’ve gone dark.”

Ah, of course. Despite Roman’s position as the ego, Logan certainly had more pride and care for what others thought of him. He had to be the best  all the time,  which was annoying only because Roman did the same thing and Remus hated Roman on principle. 

And… the light sides did tend to mock Logan about anything he actually found fun. Anything silly was quickly thought to be “not Logan’s thing.”

Which Logan partially encouraged, with his whole serious nonsense, but it still sucked dick. 

“Well, that’s a fair assumption. But I don’t know if I should be the one to pluck your feathers out, I’ll probably hurt you.” He tried to reason. Janus would certainly be the better choice, not hyperactive, reckless Remus. 

Logan tensed up at that. “I don’t… you probably won’t have to  pluck  them- at least, I hope you don’t- you’re just the only one I wanted to help me! Okay?!”

“Okay okay. Don’t get your tail in a twist.”

Remus let him into his total pigsty of a room, which looked like a thrift store and a punk rock show had both exploded inside. With a snap he cleaned his bedsheets, shutting the tv off and moving his ice cream to his mini fridge. His face mask also completely vanished (and left his face silky soft.) 

He liked living like a college student, okay.

He brought Logan forward and had him lie on his belly. 

“Can I touch your wings?” He blurted out, and at Logan’s nod he carefully put his hands near the connection point. The wings were filthy, which Remus didn’t mind, but he thought Logan would care enough to keep them clean. But no, Remus could feel dust and oil collecting on his hands as he stroked across the whole wing. Logan shuttered but didn’t speak. 

“What’s bugging you?”

“A little to the right of where you are now.”

Remus moved inward, closer to his back and could immediately tell Logan couldn’t reach back here. It was much grimier and had probably only been cleaned with water, the feathers not getting reset before they dried. There were a few clumps where the feathers had matted and twisted together. Oddly, like Remus’ hair when Jan can’t convince him to brush it. 

“Down a little.”

His hand brushed a patch of feathers that seemed loose, and Logan sighed, relaxing into the mattress. As Remus ran his fingers through it, the feathers broke away easily and soon he had a handful of brown-grey feathers, each about the size of his forearm. 

“C-can you…” Jesus, Logan sounded wrecked. “It itches…”

“Sure. No problem.” Remus chirped, trying to keep the mood light and easy. He scratched the now-bare spot carefully, feeling the dry, rough skin underneath the heavy coat of feathers. 

“Thank you.” Logan whispered, as though shocked he was getting any help at all. 

“When did this start? This whole moulting thing.” Remus asked, staring at the length and beauty of the feathers. 

“A few days ago I started losing them, but I thought it would be easy enough that I wouldn’t need help. I woke up this morning to find that wasn’t the case.” He sighed.

Remus popped his head up from examining Logan’s feathers. “Oh, are you feeling sick too? Sneeze on me if you are! I want to have your germs mingle with mine!”

“Oh no, it’s nothing… I’m just a little sore and tired.”

“You hungry? Nauseous?” Logan should eat something, he needed to keep his energy up if he was to grow a whole new set of feathers. What were feathers made of anyway? Should he google ‘what to feed your moulting bird?’

Logan huffed. “Does it really matter?” 

Remus scoffed. What was he talking about? “Of course it does! You gotta be comfy if you want those big wings to come in healthy. I mean, you could just let them stay all limp and sore until they get moldy and rotting right off your body-” he let that sentence finish in his head, figuring Logan got the picture. 

Logan bit his lip and shifted uncomfortably, and Remus didn’t need Janus here to tell him Logan didn’t believe a word of what he just said. 

Did he really think he didn’t deserve to be cared for?

Remus cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence. “Jan has something like this too, not my place to say, but he always feels super weak and sometimes nauseous or like he can’t breathe, so I was just wondering if there was anything I could do?”

Logan froze, swallowing tensely. “You’re… you’re so sweet…” 

“L?” Was… was Logan crying?? 

Yes. Yes he was. Not loudly or messily, it was more like he was getting teared up. “You don’t think it’s weird, or-or try and make me change, or make me deal with it on my own… thank you, so much, f-for your kindness.” He wiped his eyes and ruffled his wings again. 

“It’s alright, nerd, it’s kinda the bare minimum.” Remus didn’t know what to say, did Logan seriously think he’d let that stuff happen? Now he needed to be even nicer, just to prove he was better than the light sides! “What can I do to make you more comfortable? You wanna sleep, or get something to eat?”

Logan shrugged, struggling to sit up and undoing the top buttons of his polo. This polo had holes for wings, of course. Then he unzipped a hidden zipper and Remus helped tug the fabric off his wings. 

“That’s better.” Logan mumbled. “Thank you.” 

Remus’ eyes trailed down the soft, pale, gently sloping waist, like a lull in hills of fresh snow, to the small divot of his belly button. His ribs showed, and overall his chest and stomach was the pinnacle of nerd-chic. 

Remus… didn’t hate it. 

“I can try and work on your wings a bit more, if you want.” He said, forcing himself to snap out of a  _hot guy abs_ daze. 

“That’d be… satisfactory.” 

Logan laid back down, spreading his wings for Remus. He summoned a fine-toothed comb and started to gently work through Logan’s wings. After every clump of feathers that fell out, he made sure to scratch the revealed skin. 

And a lot of feathers were falling. Huge patches just came loose and covered his bedspread, making Remus rather sad. Like Logan was dying, a tree losing its leaves. 

The whole time Logan let out small gasps and stuttered inhales, making Remus sure this either felt very good or very painful. 

“How you doing?” He asked. 

“F-fine…” Logan choked out. “I-“

“No ones touched them before, right?”

Logan buried his face back into the pillow. “N-no.” 

“It makes sense that they’d be sensitive. Just tell me if anything hurts.”

“N-not hurt, just-“

“Deep breaths, Lo. Stressing out won’t make it feel better.”

Suddenly, Logan went ramrod straight, as impossible as that was, being gay. “Ahh! Remus!” He shrieked, digging his nails into the mattress. 

Shit! He screwed something up and hurt Logan! “Are you okay?” He asked, frantic. 

The wings shot out, ruffling and flapping, the tips nearly brushing the ceiling. Feathers came down like rain as Logan cried out, shaking, face screwed up in discomfort. 

“Big breaths, Lo. What’s wrong?”

He let out a noise that almost sounded like a caw. “Feels weird!” He gasped. 

“What feels weird? Your whole wing?”

Logan shook his head, one of his hands reaching back to try and find whatever it was that was bugging him. 

“It’s an oil gland… it’s been hurting on and off, but now-“ his entire body seemed to quake. 

“Okay. What would you like me to do?”

“Find it. Find it and fix it,  please. ”

The gland was on the underside of his left wing, near the tip of the upper bone. Positioned perfectly so Logan could not reach it himself. He inspected it for a moment, immediately noticing the coating of dirt around the whole thing. His skin had even sealed the pores where the oil must come out. No wonder it felt weird. 

“Okay. This will probably be painful.” He had to clean it up, but with how sensitive everything was…

He’s lucky he has long nails because as soon as he grabs some scabbed-over skin in an attempt to clear the gland Logan is  screaming. 

His whole body quivers as he chokes out muffled cries. It must feel awful, or at least overwhelming. 

“Stop! Please!” 

“Breathe, okay. It’s almost clear.” Remus tries to console him, which is not something he does often. “There we go.”

He manages to get it unclogged and sure enough, an oily substance comes rushing out. Remus coats his palms in it, resisting the temptation to try a taste. 

Logan relaxes enough that clearly that was what was bothering him so badly. He lets out a content noise and gives his wings a ruffle to loosen even more feathers. 

Remus scrunched up his face at the sheer amount of work he had ahead of him. “Lo, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you need a bath. Your wings need to be washed. Plus, it’ll get more feathers out.”

Logan grimaced, tensing up. “I hate washing them.”

“Why?”

“They take hours to dry, and they’re so annoying when wet. I know the oil will waterproof them, but I can’t… I can’t…” His voice cracked like the ice before someone falls in. 

“You can’t reach, it’s okay.” Remus really, really didn’t want Logan to cry again. “Now, I hate taking baths more than anyone, but I will rub my hands in flowery-smelling shampoo for you, boo, okay? Because this is fucking hard, and I think you’ll feel better with your wings all clean and shiny, alright?” He said, gently petting the filthy wings the whole time. 

“Yeah… I hate seeing how dirty they are… makes me not wanna look at them… or try to groom them…” Logan sounded tired and sadly resolute, like he hadn’t even considered the idea of his situation changing. 

“Okay. Let’s get you in the bath.”

Remus’ bathroom is, unsurprisingly, a disgusting hovel. But the filthy bloodstained linoleum can be cleaned with a snap. 

It takes him a few snaps to finish cleaning it all, but he doesn’t want to make Logan even dirtier. 

The bath is filled quickly, and not with blood or gore of anything of the sort, which is nice. Remus cringes as he squirts in bubble bath, which he had to summon along with a bottle of shampoo? Wing wash? Soap?

Whatever. He doesn’t take baths. 

Lathering his hands up, he digs into Logan’s wings and starts scrubbing. 

Logan barely huffs out a moan at how good it feels. Like a very deep massage, he arched his back in an effort to lean into the the touch. Remus’ warm hands rub deep into the skin beneath the feathers, not just the fluff itself. He could spend hours here, letting Remus scrub and massage. His head starts to dip, his brain becoming heavy…

He yawns. His wings are so heavy, sodden with water. And so warm… and they feel so good…

“You can sleep, Lo.” Remus’ voice is all soft and lilting, Logan likes it a bunch. He lets out a loose titter as a sort of mimic. 

“That’s a sweet sound, little birdy.” 

His wings are a little sore. Not as sore as they were when his oil gland was all crusty, more like when you’re sick and your eyes hurt. 

Remus’ prodding fingers don’t make it feel much better, but he’d much rather have them clean. 

“I’m gonna start working on one of the mats now, okay?”

He let out a hoot of approval. Fingers started picking through the heavy, sweaty feathers, tugging occasionally to try and loosen it. 

It was sorta working. Logan honestly couldn’t tell, he was so sleepy from the previous attention to his wings…

Remus chuckled to himself as the nerd slowly began to nod off. 

—————

His stomach growled a little. Huh. When did he get hungry?

“Did ya have a nightmare?”

He fell asleep? When did that happen? 

His stomach growled again, louder, more incessantly requesting nourishment. He was really hungry…

All of a sudden, he was filled with a pulsing  craving.  He had gotten cravings before, usually for Crofters, but he had never gotten one for protein. Now, however, sausage and eggs was sounding  really good. 

He crossed his arms over his middle to help quell the loud growling noises as he listened to Remus. 

“You were asleep for about two hours. I finished up your wings, got all the knots out, but you lost feathers faster than a heroin addict loses money.” He shook the a plastic bag, filled to the brim with feathers of all sizes. Logan shook his wings out, only to feel how barren they were. “Also, it’s like 11:00 and I’m pretty sure the other’s have started death’s trial period.”

That meant he could go downstairs and eat something. His head perked up at that and his stomach growled loud enough for Remus to hear. 

The Duke snickered, patting Logan’s rumbly stomach. “Yeah that’s understandable. I figured you’d be hungry, since you’re going through bird puberty. Hey, when I was 13, I actually ate so many Doritos my piss-“

“Can we go downstairs?”

“Turned orange. Yeah, sure!” 

—————

Downstairs, Logan practically wanted to eat everything in sight. He settled for munching on an apple while making himself some eggs and avocado on toast.

Remus, of course, was eating junk food. He found a chocolate bar and was somehow getting it all over his face and hands. 

Logan rolled his shoulders. His wings were aching again. Worse than before, in the tub, almost to the level of the oil gland fiasco. 

And they just felt  off . Like something was crawling across it, prickling and poking…

He shook himself, trying to stop that irritating feeling. 

“Uh, Lo?”

“Hmm?” He said offhandedly, watching his eggs.

“You’re dripping.” Remus snickered. 

What? Logan turned around in shock, and sure enough, there was a couple drops of oil on the floor. 

Of course. He had to go from no oil at all to too much oil. Obviously.

He sighed, stretching his back out before his stomach promptly reminded him of his eggs and avocado toast. 

He served it onto a plate, sat down on one of the barstools and dug in. 

It was rare for food other than Crofters to really  _get_ to Logan, but this meal was pretty fantastic. Or he was just famished. 

As he ate, he noticed Remus had moved behind him. 

And was running his fingers through his oily wings. 

“Aw, am I turning you on? Your preen gland is so wet!” He said, not really bothering to be careful about touching Logan’s wings. The sensation was odd as always, but not unpleasant. 

“It’s likely due to the moult.” Logan shrugged. “That’s probably why it was hurting so much in the first place, it was trying to produce extra oil while clogged.”

“Jesus, Lo, only about half your feathers are gone. How do they feel? How are you feeling?”

Logan wiggled his wings. “They’re greasy, which feels gross. And sore.” He took another bite of toast. “I’m super hungry.”

“Bird puberty.”

“I guess.” His eyes dropped closed as Remus rubbed a couple fingers into a particular sore muscle. It made him sleepy, Remus’ hands rubbing into his wings, finding all the aches and pains and soothing them. He wanted to fall asleep again, but he was still hungry. 

He let out a small hum through a mouthful of toast. Remus ran a flat palm across the bare part of his left wing, and the heat from the contact slowly rose through Logan’s back. His muscles loosened a little, even as Remus tapped his fingers to feel for knots. 

Remus really was being nice. Almost unnecessarily nice. Honestly, Logan just came to have him fix the irritation and then kick him out. Maybe go and spill his secret to anyone who would believe him. But no, he had bathed his wings, cleaned his preen gland, and had combed through all his feathers. He wasn’t nearly as uncaring as Logan had previously thought. 

“Hey Lo.” Remus’ hand waved in front of his face, plopping down a glass of water with a straw. He sipped it slowly. “You spaced out for a bit.”

“Sorry.” Logan yawned, politely covering his mouth with his hand. “I’m quite tired.”

“Totally understandable. Let’s head to bed, yeah?”

“That would be-“ he cut himself off with another yawn. “-Suitable.”

Somehow, his brain decided the best course of action was to slump down on the counter, face pressed to the cool linoleum, and not move. 

Maybe he could just rest here. That’d be nice.

“Cmon Lo, bed.”

“Mmh.” He grunted, wings shifting restlessly. He didn’t wanna move. 

Before he could really start to drift off though, something grabbed under his armpits and hoisted him to his feet. 

“Not today, tweetle-dumb. You need to sleep in a proper bed.”

“‘M smarter than you.” He mumbled, trying to stand properly. 

“Oh of course. Roman’s tweedle-dumb and I’m tweetle-dee. But let’s stop jumping down rabbit holes, it’s late and you need to sleep.”

He groaned but forced himself upright enough to walk without assistance. 

They headed down the hallway, Logan basically in a trance, following the dark, tall form of Remus blindly. 

He suddenly stopped and Logan hit his back with an audible thunk. 

“My room or yours?” Remus asked with cheerful nonchalance. 

“Huh?” 

“My room or yours? Unless- oh fuck, I guess you might not want me there, that’s fine too, I just thought, yknow, in case you needed anything.” Remus said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Idiot, why did he even  ask about that. 

“I’m not a child.” He said quickly, attempting to squash any doubt of that idea. 

“I’m sorry-“

“But it might… it would be nice, to have you there. If you want.”

Logan could’ve sworn the blush on Remus’ cheeks was a) real and b) mirrored by his own face. It’s not that he wanted  comfort , or something. He just wanted… to be around Remus a little longer. 

And that wasn’t a crime, now was it? 

“So… my room or yours?”

—————

He ended up in Remus’ nest. 

No! Not nest, bed. Birds have nests, humans have beds. 

“Welcome to my humble grotto!”

“Grotto?” 

“Yeah, like sea grottos. Like where octopus live.” 

Remus’… grotto was quite different with the lights off. Things glowed from random cracks and crevices, his bed was adorned with small fairy lights that cast everything in a blue-green glow. It was pleasantly cool and smelled rather salty, very unlike the stench of blood and rot it had in the daytime. 

“It’s so… different.” Good different, Logan actually really liked the whole underwater theme.

“Yeah. I’ve got insomnia because of the intrusive thoughts, so I’ve had to perfect my bedroom. I think having it like this makes my octopus brain happy. Sorry if it makes your bird brain feel stuck underwater.” Remus shrugged and flopped down on his bed.

“It’s alright. I went for a fly today, because I knew I wouldn’t be able to until my wings finished moulting.” He said, sitting on the edge of Remus’ bed and starting to unbuckle his belt. 

Remus watched his hands closely, seemingly struck dumb. His hands clenched at his sides, resisting the temptation to “help”.

Logan kicked off his jeans and Remus was still standing there, staring at his crotch with the fascination of a small child. 

“Your boxers have chemical formulas on them.”

“Yes??”

“You’re a nerd.”

—————

Remus didn’t do anything, obviously. Who is he, a pervert? No! (Well, yes, but not in this case.) Logan wore a pair of blue plaid pyjama pants and no shirt, and Remus wore a ratty grey tank top with green booty shorts. The shirt said “you are not immune to propaganda” and the shorts said “PROPAGANDA” right across his fat ass. 

They hopped into bed and Remus snuggled a body pillow close. Logan let his wings serve as his blanket. 

Remus actually attempted to get to sleep, his thoughts staying unusually quiet. Something about Logan being right next to him made his brain all soft and gentle. 

He yawned and quickly started drifting off. 

_ Squeak.  _

Complete and utter silence. This was nice.

_ Squeak. Rustle. _

He could simply drift off to dreamland. 

_ Squeak. Rustle. Squeak, squeak. _

Never mind. Logan kept shifting around, making his bed lurch and his mattress sound like a dying mouse. Annoying, when one actually wanted to sleep. 

“Lo?”

“Mmm.”

“You on coke or something? Settle down and go to sleep.”

“I’m trying.”

“What’s wrong?”

“My wings hurt, and I can’t get comfortable.” Logan shifted again, trying to find a position that his wings didn’t hate him in.

“Want me to pick through them?”

“Please. I’ve found that preening is quite relaxing.”

Remus sleepily reached his hand over and started gently petting Logan’s wings. He wasn’t awake enough to do much more than stroke from the top of the wing to the very tip, but Logan relaxed into the mattress and settled down for sleep anyway. 

A couple feathers fell loose and Remus flicked them away. He didn’t even realize he was cuddling closer to Logan until they were right next to each other. 

Remus slowly, carefully, wrapped his arms around Logan. “G’night, Lo.”

“Night Remus.” Logan’s wings fell over the two of them like a blanket, and they drifted off to sleep.


	2. Day 2: Pain

…Why was Remus waking up? It was still dark out. He yawned, batting his eyes as he tried to wake up more fully. 

“Nerd?” He said blearily, noticing Logan’s frantic state beside him. 

Logan was on his stomach, wings straight up in the air, beating and ruffling frantically. His chest rose and fell with stressed breaths, shaking sobs tearing out his throat. Logan was crying!

“Remus?! Help!” He sobbed, starting to wail as his wings flapped. 

Remus let the air rush over him, before scooting over and gently putting a hand on his lower back. God, he was tense. 

“Shh Shh Shh, what’s wrong, angel? What’s wrong?” Angel?! Where the fuck did that come from?

“My wings hurt and- ah! They’re all prickly and I just wanna sle-e-ep.” He sobbed. 

“Okay. Breathe. It’ll be okay.” What was he doing?! He didn’t know what was wrong, why was he even trying to console him? Why wasn’t he making everything worse like he was meant to? 

He liked pain, right? 

_ He didn’t like pain when it was Logan’s pain.  _

“What can I do, Lo. How can I help?”

“Can you go get Patton? I want Patton! Dad! Dad please! It hurts! Dad!”

God, Remus’ heart felt like it was being ripped apart. Strong, brave, powerful Logan who could take even Remus down with a single word, was crying out for his parent. 

He couldn’t let Patton come. Normal Logan wouldn’t want that. 

“No!” Impulsively, he slapped a hand over Logan’s mouth, hearing his small squeak. “God, if you were coherent you wouldn’t want that! This is your secret, remember?”

Logan let out a squak and bit down on Remus’ hand. He yelped and pulled it back, but he supposed he deserved that. 

“Dad! Dad come make it feel better!” Logan screamed, the taste of sweat lingering in his mouth from his sharp bite. 

Remus tried to make him shut up, which he was not very good at. “Shh angel, you’re tired and not thinking. You need to tell me what I can do.”

“I want my dad!”

“Nooo you don’t, stupid bird brain wants your dad. Smart reasonable brain wants to tell me what I can do.”

“I dunno! It hurts!” 

Well, that was clearly all he had to go off of. “Okay. When I get hurt, I like ice or cold water. Would that feel good?”

“I dunno! It’s like something’s pushing from the inside! It’s all achy and- it just really hurts!”

“Sounds like a growth to me. If it’s anything like what I felt when I grew my tentacles, it’s hell on earth. I think some ice will feel good, just tell me if I’m wrong.”

Remus quickly summoned a cold cloth wrapping up a few ice cubes. He held Logan’s trembling wing steady and almost pressed the cloth down when- 

“Holy fuck what are your feathers!”

“Huh?” Logan attempted to turn around and look at them, though actually being able to do that would surely snap his neck. 

“They’re all red at the base! Oh are they filled with blood! That is so sick!” Remus exclaimed, examining the feathers that definitely hadn’t existed yesterday. He supposed those were the brand new ones, and they were hurting Logan this badly. Plucking one of these probably felt like ripping off a fingernail. 

“T-they hurt… mmh-“ Remus pushed the icy cloth right over the feathers.

“There, how’s that? It’s just a cold cloth but I think it’ll numb the pain a little.”

Logan’s eyes fell shut as the ache receded. Remus repeated with another cloth on the other wing and he sighed deeply. “Feels better.”

“Think you can take some medicine?” He asked, summoning Logan a cup of water with a few small pills. “Extra strength pain reliever plus muscle relaxer. And boy do you need to relax. Tense muscles are only gonna make the feather growth more painful, yknow.”

“Shut up.” His nagpie forced himself upright with a grunt, though he had to keep his arms propped underneath him to hold his weight. Remus helped him take the pills, tossing them into his mouth and bringing the cup of water to his lips. 

He collapsed back onto the bed, exhausted from that little motion. Remus tenderly patted his cheek as Logan closed his eyes and sighed. 

“Go back to sleep, nerd.” He said fondly, watching his wings twitch. 

—————

Remus keeps the cloth cold with the power of imagination and diligently moves it wherever Logan’s wings so much as twitch. And the nerd keeps trying to roll over onto his feathers that are full of blood, so he built a little pillow barrier to help keep him on his stomach. 

Logan looks phenomenally cute this way, wings relaxed and tucked against his back, face all soft and sleepy. And every time he tries to pull the covers over him he whines in his sleep and ruffles his wings until they’re pushed off. 

Adorable, truly. 

Remus had just resigned himself to being creepy and watching his… acquaintance sleep. He wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to see Logan shirtless after all. 

His heart thuds in his chest whenever he thinks too hard about wanting to watch Logan sleep. He doesn’t want to think too hard about it. He’s a doer, not a thinker. 

Logan’s a thinker. He’s so smart, and calm, and rational. He’s everything Remus isn’t. 

But right now, dare he say it, Logan is  vulnerable.  He’s weak and soft and pathetic, really. It’s really pathetic how much he clings to Remus, how much he  needs  Remus. 

Is this what Roman feels like, being needed all the time? It’s not a bad feeling. He gets why Roman has such a big head about it. 

—————

That day, Logan is barely coherent. The ache in his wings forces him to stay on his belly. Each time he tries to get up, his elbow buckles and he slams back down into the mattress. 

And worse, he feels restless. So many hours without flight and his wings are straining to reach the sky. He wants to get up. He needs to. 

“No, Lo, don’t move. They’re delicate.”

He tries again, only for a shoot of pain to ripple up his wings. He cried out and fell back down. 

He wanted to cry. Why did it have to hurt and twinge and  ache  so much! 

“Shh, Lo. It’s okay. I know it hurts, but you gotta stay still. Cmere. Sit in my lap, I’ll rub your back.”

Logan, with Remus’ help, managed to struggle up into a seated position. He was lifted and plopped into Remus’ lap ungracefully, and dear Newton Remus was strong. His bare thighs were solid underneath him, his biceps barely even strained to lift his weight. 

Somehow that fact was… comforting. He felt safe, cuddled in Remus’ strong hold. His heart beat a little faster than average when he thought about all those strong muscles could do. How they could protect him. 

“Where do you want me to start?”

Logan snapped out of his daze. “Uh- I-I don’t know, just sitting up and being in your arms makes it better.” He stretched out his neck, leaning his head against Remus’ bicep. 

He could’ve sworn Remus flushed red. “I’ll start on your lower back.” He said, though it came out rushed.

As his hands began to knead his back, Logan sighed and fell comfortably into his hold, not bothering to keep himself upright anymore. 

Remus suddenly remembered something. They had been in his room for over a day and no one had even texted Logan. Did they just completely forget he existed? 

Okay, well he had to ask. “Lo?”

“Hmm?”

“Are the others going to be worried about where you’ve disappeared to?”

“…No, I’ve informed them that I am ill and contagious and for them to not check on me. They probably won’t try.” Logan said with a resolutely disappointed look. 

“Oh. Okay.” Well that was sad. 

“We are free to do whatever we like.” He said softly, before gasping as another spike of pain ran up through his wings. Remus gently rubbed them, trying to soothe it, but his soft touch didn’t help much. 

“Talk to me.” He mumbles, wanting something, anything, as a distraction. 

A distraction?! Remus was great at those! But… he didn’t wanna be disturbing. Logan was in pain, he shouldn’t just ramble about gore or murder. 

He made up his mind. “Can I tell you a story?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, once upon a time, there was a little boy named Remus.”

“Really.”

“Shh. Nerd.” He lightly smacked Logan’s back as a way of chiding him. “And I was really really young. Like, four. Maybe. And my back started to hurt all the time.” 

A pleasant sort of nostalgia washed over him as he remembered this story. He remembered staring at his small, dirty-soled feet, as he sprawled his back over the arm of the couch in order to stretch it out better. 

A grin grew on his face as he remembered Janus. “But I had a wonderful mama, Janus, who was also kinda dealing with his own shit, but he always made sure to give me back rubs every night and ice packs when the pain got worse. And it got steadily worse and worse over a whole year.” 

“Patton did that for me, too. Before I grew my wings. I mean, I told him it was just back pain, but he still helped.” Logan piped up.

Each of them remembered their parents soothing their aches and pains, and basked in the nostalgia. It was nice to know someone cared, even if it was so long ago. 

“Shh, it’s my story.” Remus said with a smile. “Anyway, one day, I couldn’t even get out of bed, my back hurt so much. And I was five, right? So I was screaming and crying. And then Janus ran in, looked at my back and started telling me to push.” The day was so vivid in his mind, even masked by the haze of pain. Janus clutching his hands, so small in Jan’s gloves ones, as the pain ebbed and flowed with each push. “Like I was giving birth or something. He just kept screaming ‘push, push!’ And I didn’t even know what my back looked like or what was wrong and I was so confused and scared, but I pushed.” 

The fear, he was so scared back then. So scared of what was happening to him. Was he turning into the monster everyone always said he was? “I bet I had huge gashes down my back or something, Jan won’t tell me to this day. Anyway, I kept pushing and pushing, and soon I felt blood running down my back. That’s when I started to freak out. I didn’t know what was happening at all, I was scared out of my mind! Janus kept telling me to push, he was wiping up my blood with a rag, we were both crying, and it hurt so fucking bad.”

He shuttered, feeling the phantom pain spark up through his back again. The stench of blood, his throat torn from screaming, clutching onto Janus like a lifeline as his limbs clawed and scratched for a way out of his flesh. “Then it was like something just… broke. And all of a sudden I had new limbs.”

Logan stayed quiet for a moment.

“Can you show me them?”

Remus blushed. He didn’t know what it was about his tentacles, but he found that he likedto keep very private about them. More private than he would be about his actual body. Everyone had a dick. Only he had tentacles. 

But… Logan showed him his wings, and he was the only one who got to see them, so maybe Logan deserved his secret in return. 

He pushed a little, like he had done all those years ago, and his slimy, thick, green tentacles wormed out from under his shirt. 

“I should mention my fun suckers have a mind of their own. They’re very playful.”

At his words a tentacle shot out and tickled Logan’s cheek. Two others slid under Logan’s arms to his wings, and helped to brace them up like a kind of stand. 

Remus felt Logan settle his weight down on them as soon as he was sure the tentacles would be stable with a wing each. 

“Fascinating…” Logan whispered, and Remus blushed and scoffed. 

“Don’t complement them, they have big enough heads from when they learned tentacle porn was a thriving industry.”

Logan chuckled and gently pet an arm with delicate care. Remus shivered, not used to the calm touch.

“Sorry.” Logan said quietly. 

“It’s ok.” Why were they whispering. Was this a sort of tender moment?

“They’re quite affectionate.” Logan remarked as a tentacle curled around his wrist. 

“Mm. They’re lonely.” He didn’t know why he said that, but it wasn’t wrong. 

Two more tentacles stuck to Logan cheeks and sharply pulled away, leaving small, doughnut shaped red marks. 

The blood rushed to Remus’ face. “Don’t- don’t do that!” He said, slapping one of them away from Logan’s face. 

“Why not?” Logan said with a small giggle, as the others tentacle pulled and released his cheek with vigorous speed. 

Remus, if this was possible, blushed even more. “Stop kissing him!” He shouted. “Sorry, Lo, when they do that, it’s them kissing you.” He gazed at Logan’s cheeks covered in purple-red rings. “And leaving hickeys.”

Logan’s eyes went wide with shock. “K-kissing me?” He asked, face flushing. He had never been kissed before, not even in this sort of loose context. 

He didn’t mind it much. 

He let out a small giggle, tenderly touching the marks left on his face. Well, at least he had proof of his first kiss. 

Remus let out a breath he wasn’t aware of holding when Logan giggled. He liked it? Did he like being kissed by Remus? Does that mean he’d like a real kiss too?

No, idiot! Those two things are completely different! And why was he even thinking about kissing Logan? It was his tentacles that wanted to do that, not him. 

Logan continued laughing at the kisses, leaning into each one a tentacle gave him. 

Holy god, is he cute. Remus could hardly stand it. 

“I don’t mind, really.” Logan said, as a tentacle wormed around his middle. “Like you said, you’re not in control of them.”

Right. This doesn’t mean anything. He should really stop getting his hopes up. 

Logan thought he saw Remus deflate a bit and almost asked him what was wrong when his stomach growled. Shit, now was not the time for one of his weird hungry states. 

The tentacle around his middle squeezed, somewhat helping with the sharp hunger pangs that suddenly filled him. Gosh, this was so random! 

“Here. Drink this.” Remus handed him a bottle full of something thick, white and creamy. 

“I’m not drinking your semen.”

“HAHAHAHA WHAT?! No!! This is a protein shake!”

“Well I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“No, idiot, I felt your stomach growl and I know you kinda go from not hungry to cannibalistic, so I summoned this to help.” 

“Oh. Thank you, I guess.” Logan stuck the bright red straw in his mouth and slurped. The pleasantly cold shake tasted like sweet cream, clearly Remus did not care about nutritional value. Still, it was delicious. 

Remus snickered. 

“What?” Logan asked, mouth still a little full of milkshake. 

“You have milk on your lip and it looks like cum.” Remus laughed, before leaning in and wiping Logan’s upper lip with his thumb. 

Logan froze as Remus’ rough, probably chewed raw thumb brushed, oh so gently, across his top lip. 

Remus licked the pad of his thumb. “Mm. That shit’s good.” 

He had no words. How speak? Brain gone. His lip still tingled with the unexpected touch, until his brain managed to reboot itself and he wrote it off as nothing more than Remus being Remus. 

—————

Logan slept on and off for the rest of the day, his pain receding enough to allow him to rest. Remus made sure to watch over him, using his tentacles to hold cold cloths wherever Logan needed them. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about the accidental kiss. Well, it’s not like he wanted to kiss Logan, and Logan didn’t even take it as a real kiss in the first place? So why was he still thinking about it?

Maybe he  did  want to kiss Logan…

No! Don’t be dumb. Logan wouldn’t want that anyway. And besides, the only reason Logan was even here was because he cared so much about his reputation as a light side. Would he be caught snogging the darkest side in the mind palace? Hell no. 

And he’d just have to live with that. 


	3. Day three: itch

The next day, Logan was up before Remus. His wings were spread out and quivering slightly, as his gaze stayed fixed to the opposite wall. Remus looked at him, yawned, and patted his leg to let him know he was awake too. 

He noticed how tense Logan was, figuring his wings were uncomfortable again. Nearly all the feathers had gone now, with clumps of them left on the bedsheets like evidence of some bird-burglary. 

“Can you go get me some breakfast?” Logan asked, voice clipped and tense.

“Yeah yeah. Gimme a moment.” Remus said, yawning. “What do you want?”

“Protein would suffice, thank you.”

Remus left the room with a two-fingered salute and the minute he was gone, Logan groaned. 

It itched _so_ _ bad.  _ He couldn’t figure out what was wrong but dammit, the brutal itch on the end of his wings was indescribable. Thomas has made several mistakes in his life, one of which was walking through a bush of poison ivy. But that didn’t hold a candle to this. 

He groaned again, reaching his arms up, stretching as high as he could go in an attempt to reach his wingtips. He tried bending his wings but Logan found that his wings didn’t really like to bend much. At least, not outside of flight. They either were spread all the way out, or tucked in tightly against his back. 

His current theory was sleeping in Remus’ room gave him bugs. Nits or something. Which wasn’t exactly unlikely, given the general state of his room. 

But it just itched so  bad.  And he had to do something!

As he strained to reach his wing, he lost his balance for a second, and his wingtip rubbed against the wood of the headboard. 

Ohh that felt  _good_. 

He positioned himself right where he could rub his both wingtips on the headboard edge, and wiggled his wings up and down. 

Ahh. That was better. 

He didn’t care that he looked silly. He cared that whatever was itching so damn bad was getting fixed and no one was around to witness his loss of control.

“I’m back- what are you doing?”

Instantly Logan tore his wings away and stared at Remus, eyes wide. His wings trembled, whether from fear or the newly reoccurring itch he didn’t know. 

Remus chuckled and held up the bowl he was carrying. “Patton made hash with bacon, and I said I’d bring you up a bowl. He probably thought I was gonna throw it in your face, though.” He set down both bowls on the bed and started eating his with his hands. He swallowed, then asked. “Were you trying to itch your wings on my bed frame?”

“I-I’m sorry.” Logan apologized, embarrassed. 

“No, don’t apologize. I was just wondering if you wanted me to look at them.”

“Please.” 

“You eat up, I’ll check it out.”

Logan dug into his breakfast and Remus started running his fingers through the wings again. He didn’t scratch, given that he didn’t know what the problem was and he had enough experience with lice and fleas to know that scratching weird itches was always a bad idea. 

Logan’s feathers were no longer a dark red, instead the base was coated in some sort of waxy substance. “Oh, I think your new feathers are almost done coming in! They don’t seem quite… fluffy enough, but they’re not red anymore.” He explained. 

“Are there bugs?”

“I don’t see any… and your wings are still bare enough that I think I would.”

Well, that disproves his only theory. “Well can you double check?”

“I don’t see anything like bites. I’m pretty sure you’re clean, Lo.”

“Then why do they itch so bad?”

“I dunno. Maybe try not to scratch?”

“I don’t like that answer.” He said, pouting, arms crossed. 

“Yeah yeah. Wanna watch Saw?”

—————

The Saw movies, in Remus’ opinion, rule. 

He snatched a bag of Doritos and dug into him as they watched. He noticed Logan was tense beside him, but he was way too invested into the movie. 

At least, until Logan started itching his wings. 

It was small at first, almost like he was scratching his shoulder. But then his hand didn’t move and just kept itching the one spot. He arched his back a little, trying to reach his hand down further. 

Only when it appeared like he wasn’t gonna be able to reach did Logan start  _tearing_ into his wings. Hand slung over his back as he dug through the feathers to claw at the skin, grunting and letting out frustrated huffs as his nails pressed in deeper. 

“God- itchy… itchy- fuck-“

Remus liked blood and gore, but ripping your skin open didn’t seem that fun. He paused the movie and fully focused his attention on the bird-brain. 

Logan grunted, trying to use both hands, grappling and clawing at the wings, messing up the brand new feathers Remus just combed through last night. 

He almost seemed in a trance, trying to itch as much as possible. 

“Lo, cut it out.” He didn’t actually want Logan to hurt himself.

He only grunted and tried to bend back even further. “Ree, it is so stupid itchy.” Logan using slang and nicknames? This must be really bothering him. 

“C’mon, tweety nerd, you’re gonna get hurt.”

“But-“

“I know it feels good to itch it, but you’re just gonna end up clawing through your skin and soaking your brand new feathers with blood.” And then Remus would have to wash them out, and ugh, that was just too much work.

Logan gave a frustrated caw and pulled his hands away from his wings, a firm pout on his face. 

“Here.” Remus offered him the bag of Doritos. “Do something with your hands.”

Logan looked at the almost neon orange chips incredulously. “Those will give you heart disease.”

“Have you ever even tried one?” 

“No. I don’t like junk food.”

“Everyone likes junk food. Isn’t it scientifically tasty?”

“And scientifically terrible for you.”

“Cmon. Just try one.”

His lip curled as he pulled one out of the bag, staring suspiciously at the orange triangle. Very slowly, as though he expected to hate it, he bit into the corner. 

Remus could’ve sworn he saw his eyes dilate. 

“You like it, don’t you!”

Logan opened his mouth as though to firmly deny that he did, but didn’t say anything. Remus grinned wickedly, knowing that the kalien (kale-alien) actually did like junk food no matter what he said. Logan took another bite, before deciding to eat Doritos the proper way and pop the whole thing in his mouth. 

“Aren’t they good?”

“Shut up. That’s all I’m having.”

Remus knew that resolved wouldn’t last. He made a show out of crunching his Doritos and licking his fingers after, the way a pornstar licks up cum. 

He knew Logan was watching. He wanted another taste. 

Remus shot him a knowing look and shook an unopened bag, ready for Logan to dig into. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” Remus only grinned wider. 

Logan rolled his eyes. “Give me the bag.”

—————

Stupid Remus. With his stupid face and stupid stomach that can handle anything. 

Logan ate an entire bag of Doritos. All by himself! And he made the huge mistake of checking the nutritional facts. So much salt and fat…

He growled as he threw the bag across the room and Remus laughed. “You never read the nutrition table, it just guilts you into staying away from their gorgeous orange deliciousness!”

Logan scowled and pouted, trying to do puppy eyes. “I demand we go downstairs and I get to consume something healthy.” He snapped, crossing his arms over his stomach. 

Remus chuckled, poking Logan’s rumbling belly. “You’re so angry about this, it’s adorable. Or are you just hangry?” 

“It’s not my fault I get really hungry out of the blue.”

“Wasn’t implying that it was, Bill Nye the neck tie. Cmon. Let’s get you some food and leave a note that you’re still sick.” Remus said, standing up and stretching. 

Logan stood as well and clicked his tongue. “You need to eat too.”

“Yeah yeah, I’ll grab something-“

“No. You should eat something nutritious as well.” He said, and Remus rolled his eyes.

“Loooo I had Patton’s hash this morning.”

“When was the last time you ate a vegetable?”

Remus pouted. “I don’t  like  vegetables.”

“Well you’re eating one. I’ll make stir fry.”

“You think you can stand long enough to make anything?” Logan was swaying like a high rise in a hurricane. “And what if the others come in? It’s like 3:30.”

“I’ll be fine. And I’ll hide my wings in a sweater. They think I’m sick, so it won’t be unusual.” Logan said, snapping his fingers. In his hands appeared a thick blue hoodie Remus wasn’t even aware he owned. He pulled it over his head, expertly tucking his wings in and under. He had clearly done this before.

Logan winced as they were tucked in, clearly uncomfortable. He tried to slouch in a way that would make it feel better, but shifting just made the cotton rub against his itchy skin.

This wouldn’t be very fun, but his appetite had other plans. 

“Cmon.” He snapped at Remus, already starting to feel his wings crawl, shift and HATE being trapped in the hot, stifling hoodie. 

Remus diligently hopped up and got the door for him. 

He slowly went downstairs, trying to scratch his wings as subtly as possible. He rounded the corner and saw Patton knitting a multicoloured blanket while watching the food network. He looked up, saw Remus and Logan and his face broke into a beautiful smile. 

“Lo! Good to see you! You feeling better?” He asked, fingers still diligently working on his knitting. 

“A little.” Logan purposely tried to make his voice scratchy and rough. “Remus has been taking good care of me.”

Patton beamed at Remus. “Thanks kiddo. It’s nice to see you both getting along.”

They both headed to the kitchen and Logan got started pulling out a pan, vegetables, and a few bottles of sauce from the cupboard. “Pick.” He said, showing the bottles to Remus. 

Given that his favourite flavour was onions and gym sock, Remus picked a jar at random. 

The stove came to life as Logan put him to work cutting up bok choi, peppers, carrots, and plenty of other disgusting green things.

Logan started putting veggies in the hot pan, a sizzle crackling through the air. 

He dumped the sauce in there, stirring it around before freezing suddenly. His wings twitched and rustled under his sweater and Logan reached a hand over and attempted to look nonchalant as he scratched his shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

“Fucking… it itches…”

“Are you gonna be okay?” Remus repeated. “I can watch this if you wanna run to the bathroom.”

“Can you-“ Logan let out a small whine. “Just scratch a little. Over my sweater.”

Clearly, Logan cared more about his dignity and appearing put together than actually being comfortable, something Remus didn’t get at all. “Okay.” 

In order to hide what he was doing, he had to stand really close to Logan, almost pressing their hips together. 

_ God, Logan has a nice ass.  _

Snap out of it! Remus shook his head and started to roughly scratch at the bulky forms of Logan’s wings.

“Thank you. You can stop now.” Logan said lowly, adding sauce to their collection of vegetables. 

Remus let his arms drop and hug around Logan’s delicate waist. Just a little too thin, he really did need to eat more junk food. He stuck his leg in between Logan’s as a kind of support. 

“What are you doing?” Logan asked, a light giggle in his voice. 

“Hugging you.”

“Why?”

“I never have a reason, you know that!”

Logan chuckled again, then relaxed into Remus’ hold. “It’s nice.”

Remus actually thought his heart might spontaneously combust. 

—————

The stir fry was actually good. Turns out veggies smothered in sauce do taste acceptable. 

Logan ate a lot, enough that Patton checked to make sure he wasn’t going to puke. At that comment Remus wanted to smack the moral side, Logan was thin enough as it was. 

He supposed it came from a good place though, Patton did think Lo was sick. 

Nothing could compare though, to the way Logan beamed with pride as Remus scarfed down his stir fry. Logan liked helping people, a weird light side thing, and he guessed it made him happy to see Remus healthy. 

And Remus felt the same about Logan. He had to make sure his health remained okay while he moulted, and it made him happy to see him so content. 

It was a feedback loop. They each made themselves happy by making the other happy. What did Logan call that? A endless machine or something? Apparently they don’t actually work in real life, but this wasn’t real life. This was emotions, so they could keep making each other infinitely happy forever. Not that he wanted that or anything. Nope. Totally platonic thoughts here.

They finished up, said bye to Patton, and went back upstairs. 

As soon as Patton was out of sight Logan ran down the hallway to Remus’ room. He pushed open the door, threw off his shirt and started scratching his wings against the doorframe. 

“Jesus, Lo. You’re gonna peel your skin clean off.”

Logan didn’t stop, shifting left and right trying to find the best angle. 

“My apologies, there’s just… that sweater was torture.” He grunted, sighing as he finally managed to hit a bad spot. 

Torture? Remus loved torture! “That’s nothing! Did you know about the pear? In medieval times they’d stick that up a girls pussy and crank it so it got wider and wider until her vag split open!” He said with a manic grin. 

“F-fascinating-“ Logan rolled his eyes. “God, this one itch won’t go away!”

“Maybe scratching is making it worse like I told you.” Remus said smugly, grabbing Logan by the shoulders and ripping him away from the doorframe. 

Logan scowled and whined, but let himself be brought over to the bed so they could watch documentaries together. 

—————

“Don’t scratch.” Logan was currently itching his wings again with the cap side of a ballpoint pen. Apparently the little bit of extended reach made all the difference, because Logan looked like he was getting the best dick of his life. 

He scowled and glared at Remus. “If god didn’t want me to scratch thee wouldn’t have made my wings so itchy.”

“Okay, let’s, uh, distraction! Tell me about carbon monoxide poisoning and how it kills you!”

“Uh…” it was rare that Logan couldn’t focus. “Carbon monoxide, unlike carbon dioxide, is one carbon molecule with… mmh, one oxygen molecule.” Stupid itchy wings! It felt like a rash all over, prickly and hot as new feathers grew in. He bunched the bedspread in his fists and squeezed, trying to relieve the temptation to scratch and scratch until it all felt better. 

“Logan, don’t focus on it.” Easier said than done. He needed…

He leaned up against the headboard in the hopes that pressure would make it stop. It didn’t, and he couldn’t resist wiggling back and forth to let that sharp edge scratch his wings. He could definitely do this without Remus noticing and making him stop. 

“Carbon monoxide binds to the hemoglobin in blood, and reduces its ability to carry oxygen.” He explained, shifting back and forth just a little bit. The sharp corner felt nice…

“Lo, stop.” Dammit, he’d been caught. He blushed high on his cheekbones. 

Damn, he’s cute.  Remus thought. Hold up, no, he was only thinking that because Logan looked like he was horny, even though all he wanted was a wing scratch. There weren’t any fluffy, mushy feelings involved. Stop reading into it. 

“Here, I’ll give you a good scratch, okay? You just keep telling me about carbon monoxide.” He harshly pulled Logan into his lap, planting his long nails right near the centre and scratching hard at the skin underneath. 

Logan practically melted, any thoughts about what he was talking about left his brain immediately. He let out a coo at the sensational assault to his back. "Oh, yes, Remus. Right there.  God , that's good."

Remus blushed. He couldn’t just- he was on his lap! That basically meant they had to keep it ultra-platonic, and Logan just cooed!

“Is that nice, Mark Zucker-turd?” He said, watching Logan’s blissed-out face. More coos, and a few hoots of contentment. “What if I scratch right down over here…”

A much louder hoot for the scratching of the wing armpit. Fun. Remus was certainly going to know Logan’s wings very well after all this. 

Up near the bone got him a ticklish titter, which probably meant that area wasn’t as itchy but was likely more sensitive. Opposite that, the very underside of the wing, on the border between the front and the back, was clearly very itchy, as he got a deep hoot-like groan for his efforts there. 

Chuckling to himself, he noticed the feathers seemed coated in something white and waxy. Figuring Logan would scream or peck him if this hurt, he decided to pick at the white gunk. Logan let out a satisfied breath, feeling Remus’ nails scrape right over a bad itch. It was like scratching the very centre of a mosquito bite, and damn it felt good.

“Whatever you’re doing… mmm keep- keep doing it.”

Remus listened to Logan’s moans as he scraped at the white gunk. It was a sort of capsule, that broke away and unfurled a new feather. 

Ah. So that’s why it itched. Logan’s body was forcing itself to start picking off the coating. 

“Good news bird-brain, you can rub against anything you want!”

—————

Remus was on his phone for ten minutes and came back to see Logan using the side of his bed frame as a wing scratcher again. The nerd did look fairly content, probably managing to get a hard to reach spot. 

He let him be, he didn’t feel like scratching again. Plus, The poor thing needed relief. Any time he paused he seemed to gravitate towards a sharp corner to scratch his back on. 

“Lo?”

His head snapped up, blushing. 

“Don’t be embarrassed. I was just thinking I should bring the oil through your wings again. I’ll pick off some of the casings while I’m at it. It’ll waterproof the new feathers.”

“I’ve picked off as many as I can reach.” He said, laying back on the bed again, giving Remus an open invitation to start working again. “There’s just so many.”

“Well, I’ll do as many as I can, cool?”

“Very cool.”

“Actually we should try to get this finished by tonight.”

“Why?” 

“How are you gonna sleep?”

Logan thought about that, and then thought about how much his wings itched. 

“Right. Yes, I think it’s best if you… do all of them. Or all the remaining ones.”

“No prob bob.”

“My name is Logan.”

Remus snickered and went back to picking off casings. He decided the most effective strategy would be to press his nails down firmly and drag up slowly in order to get them loose, and then pick off each individual casing. It would be time consuming, but then he wouldn’t have to do it again. 

He dug his nails into the mass of feathers and began to scrape away at the casings. 

“Ohhhhh…” Logan’s eyes fluttered shut. “That feels  wonderful,  Remus. Thank you.”

“Imagine that but with a rusty spoon!” He said gleefully. “Tetanus.” He mumbled as a way of explaining. 

Logan was content to lay, relax and enjoy the deep, soothing wing scratch and Remus went about scraping off those sticky casings. 

Logan smiled and let his wings ruffle a little as Remus moved on to picking at the individual feathers. He could almost feel each feather unfurl and stretch up to the sky, happy to be free. 

He couldn’t wait to fly after this. 

Several hours past as Logan dreamed of the wind in his feathers and the open sky above him. It felt- though it was foolish- it felt like he could fly straight up out of earth’s atmosphere and into the cold expanse of space. He supposed he could do that if he wanted, he was imaginary after all. 

The heavy tick-tock of the clock on the wall brought him back down to earth as he realized his wings didn’t itch anymore. Well, except for there… and there… and this really bad one in the middle.

“You’ve missed a few.” He mumbled. 

“Really? Tell me where.” Remus asked, letting his hands trace around the lower feathers. 

Logan directed him carefully, till Remus found the right pin feather and scraped it clean. 

“There- how’s that?!” Remus chirped. 

Logan ruffled out his wings. “Thank you. So much.” Oh, to be itch-free. A wonderful feeling.

“I’ve still gotta cover you in oil.” Remus said, swiping a couple fingers through Logan’s preen gland. He winced. It was quite a sensitive organ. 

Remus started with spreading the oil at the top of the wing and wiping it down like how a window washer wipes windows. He made sure to bring it through, coating each individual feather and working it into the dry skin underneath. 

Soon, his wings were shiny, clean, and bright. Seriously, the feathers SHONE. 

Remus clapped his hands and he stared at his work. He did something good for once! “There. You’re completely free!”

“Thank you Remus.” Logan said quietly, shaking out his wings. 

He could fly again. His wings were so  pretty  now. They were deep rich brown, speckled with stone grey. Natural. Earthy. 

He spaced out, thinking about how much he wanted to fly. 

And Remus. He thought about Remus an awful lot. Something about him made his stomach and chest feel… nauseous? No, it was a positive feeling. Was this the butterflies Roman kept going on about?

Remus glanced at Logan, at his new wings. God, they were so pretty. Logan was so pretty.

Was this all the time they got to spend together? Would they go back to begrudging enemies after this? Would all the comfort, the love, be confined to his bedroom?

The silence stretched on, until it began to get awkward. Logan didn’t leave, and Remus didn’t force him out.

“Here’s an idea-“

“I was wondering-“ 

The broke the silence together, laughing lightly at speaking in unison. “You go first.” Logan said, gesturing to Remus. 

Remus blushed a shade not far away from blood red. “Um, okay, uh, you don’t have to say yes or something, butIwasthinkingIcouldtakeyoutodinnersometime?” 

“Are… are you asking me on a date?”

“Um, that was my plan?” He said with a blush.

Logan looked at the floor, and Remus instantly knew he fucked up. Why did he assume their time together meant anything?? God, now he had ruined their friendship forever!

“O-okay.”

The response was hesitant, but Remus’ head popped up and he grinned wider than he ever thought possible. Wider than the joker. “Really?! You- you wanna go on a date with me?”

“Yeah.” Logan’s feathers were all fluffed, how cute! “I’m free on Friday.”

Something happy and blushy wiggled in Remus’ chest like a squirmy little worm. “Okay! That’s great!” And then, on impulse, he gave Logan a wet smooch on the cheek, and ran off to brag to Roman about what had happened. 

Logan stood there, shocked and flushed, as Remus ran off. He put a hand to his slightly damp cheek and smiled. 


End file.
